


i'll fight their doubt and give you faith

by catching_paper_moons



Series: beginner's luck [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, nolan cries again sorry, nolan's sister shows up for a hot sec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catching_paper_moons/pseuds/catching_paper_moons
Summary: Nolan knows he's worth something.





	i'll fight their doubt and give you faith

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my lovely cheerleaders for getting me through writing this; many tears were shed over this, somehow.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also! Totally not necessary to have read the first part, but it sets up a little more for ya :)
> 
> (ps hi tswift i didn't steal ur song for my title credit goes to ours by taylor swift) (please don't sue me)

It kind of sucked when Nolan had to turn off his Instagram comments for the first time; it sucked that people are being so fucking rude that he could barely handle it like a big boy and needed to turn them all off while he hyperventilated on his bathroom floor. His sister had come in and held him while he cried and he’d wondered, meanly, he knows, why it’s him getting this shit and not Nico. When he’d said this, his sister had just given him a look.

“What?” he’d asked, sniffing. 

“You don’t mean that. He’s your friend,” she’d said, smoothing his hair back. “And they’re wrong. So don’t listen to them. You did the right thing turning your comments off.”

He’d eventually turned them back on, and he’d thought at the time he might regret that decision. Which he definitely does, right now, as the comments pour in on a picture from two weeks ago. They all say shit like “you’re a bust” and “hischier’s better” or “you cant even make your team better” and Nolan knows that these people don’t even play hockey. He knows they can’t do what he can. So he doesn’t let it bother him.

He goes back to report some of the comments for spam when he sees the one that says “only a matter of time before ur glass bones break again” and it shocks him into silence. He’d been doing well, eating right. Nothing was bothering him, he’d been completely fine this whole season. He feels completely okay; except his breaths are coming quicker now and his eyes are prickling with tears. He turns off the comments again, before more people can come and agree with that asshole, whoever they are. He throws his phone away from him and tries to breathe as best he can.

He paces his apartment until he can’t anymore, and he picks up his phone.

**hischbabe:** you turned off insta comments again….everything ok?? :-)

He shoots off a text that just says “yea” and is immensely grateful that the Flyers only have practice tomorrow and not a game. He gets up and paces again, and leaves his phone untouched. He downs a glass of water, and then another, and tries not to cry again. After what feels like hours, he lays down on the couch and curls up under a blanket and picks up his phone.

**hischbabe:** ok, call me please? love you 

Nolan shakes his head and lets the tears fall, finally, and just cries himself to sleep. 

 

He wakes up and has 5 texts from Nico, all of which consist of some sort of “i love you” and “i know ur not fine call me later.” Nolan doesn’t even open them, just gets ready for practice slowly. He’s moving through his apartment like he’s trudging through molasses. He barely feels like a human. He’s trying to muster up the will to move faster, but it feels almost impossible.

Once he gets to practice he leaves it all on the ice, something he knows he’s good at. He knows he’s good at hockey. He moves like an expert, flying down the ice and shooting with such accuracy that he gets head pats from some of the guys. He wishes he could play like this during a game. It never feels like this during a game. Practice is easy, playing is harder.

And it’s stupid because, like. He knows, okay? He’s doing fine; he knows this, rationally. But he only has 10 goals and 13 assists and it’s December, it’s been 29 games. And while that’s probably a pretty reasonable pace, especially for a rookie, he still feels like he’s not doing enough. He wishes he could be doing more for the team, doing more to get them the wins they deserve to be getting. 

Claude jostles him as he walks past. “Hey, rookie,” he says, ruffling Nolan’s hair. “What’s got you fired up this morning? You were flyin’ on the ice today.” 

Nolan shrugs and laughs. “Just felt determined, I guess.” He throws his tape in his bag and takes a deep breath, lets it out. “You know. Felt like I haven’t been doing enough.”

Claude frowns, and Nolan fights the urge to apologize to his captain. “Been doin’ a lot more than a lot of guys. Don’t blame everything on yourself. You’ve been helping big time, Patty.” Nolan nods, looking down as he unlaces his skates. Claude smiles a little and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He packs up slowly, letting Claude’s words swirl around in his brain.  _ Don’t be so hard on yourself, don’t be so hard on yourself.  _ He knows he’s injury prone. And sometimes it’s stupid shit that hurts him and keeps him out for a bit, but it’s still shitty to be injury prone. And knowing that people are talking about it feels shitty. It’s not like he can help his god awful luck when it comes to injuries and sickness, but he still feels, well, shitty. 

He walks out slowly, and ambles toward his car. He has another text from Nico, just a stupid meme he found funny and can’t stop talking about. He ignores it and sits in his car, feeling exhausted. He knows the season is long and treacherous and difficult. He knows it’s not easy to be in the NHL. He just wants one day where people aren’t commenting on his Instagram posts with stupid shit. Just one day. He knows they don’t know the half of it. He knows Claude is right. He knows he shouldn’t be so hard on himself. He knows this, rationally. But he’s not good at rationalizations right now, so he figures he’ll just grab a smoothie from some place and head back to his apartment and try not to think about it.

But Nolan ends up spending a good portion of his drive to get a smoothie being angry at drivers in the city, being angry at the sports radio for comparing him to Connor McDavid and Auston Matthews, being angry at his stupid injury prone genetics, being angry at the world. The fifth time he has to slam on the breaks is when he starts to cry. He doesn’t even have a fucking smoothie. He pulls over into a parking lot and takes a deep breath, and then another. When he can’t fucking catch his breath, he calls his sister.

“Hey dude,” she says, sounding happy. “How’s it hangin’?” 

He feels bad. He doesn’t want to bother her with this. “I’m fine,” he says, but his voice cracks and he takes a shaky breath. “Sorry, yeah, I’m fine.” He knows he doesn’t sound fine.

“Wait, no,” she says, sounding concerned. “You don’t sound fine. What happened?”

He spills everything out over the phone; the frustration with the stupid drivers, the Instagram comments, everyone doubting him. “And I miss home,” he says. “I miss being only two hours away. I miss you.” 

She sighs. “Nolan, I miss you, too. I wish I could be there.” She pauses, but it doesn’t sound like she’s done talking. When she doesn’t say anything else, Nolan narrows his eyes.

“But?” he prompts.

“But it sounds like you’re doubting yourself, bud,” she finishes, and Nolan sighs. “Don’t...don’t argue, okay? Prove them wrong. They don’t know you. You’re already proving them wrong! It’s hard but if you want me to, I can remind you literally every day how great your hockey is and how much I love you.” She pauses again, and Nolan waits it out this. “And you know you can always call Dad, or Uncle James, or, you know, Nico.”

“Maddie,” Nolan says. He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. He knows she’s right. He knows Nico would know what he’s going through better than his dad or his uncle because they’re practically going through the same thing, but Nico’s got his own shit. He says this, and Maddie sighs.

“Just because Nico has his own shit doesn’t mean he’s not willing to help you,” she says, sounding like she knows everything. And maybe she’s right, but he’s not going to bother Nico right now. So he just agrees. They talk more, about school and hockey and when they end the conversation Nolan feels marginally better, so he calls Nico. Not to vent or anything but. Just to talk.

“Nolan! Hi,” Nico says brightly. Nolan can practically hear his smile. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Nolan replies automatically. “Er, yeah. I’ll be fine. Sorry for not responding, I was working through some shit.” He makes a face at how bad that came out, and shakes his head. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. You’re sure you’re okay?” Nico sounds like he’s shuffling something around. “I miss being able to comment mysteriously on your pictures.”

Nolan snorts. “I’m fine. Someone said some stuff so I turned them off again. But I’m okay.” He’s not actually okay, but he lets Nico’s voice wash over him as Nico talks about his games and his teammates and everything, and he can sort of pretend like he is. Nolan puts his car back in drive and drives home, the roads significantly more empty. Nico just talks and talks about whatever, and when Nolan finally gets to his apartment he lays on the couch and interrupts him. “I miss you, Hisch.” 

Nico laughs softly. “I miss you too, Nol. Only a few days until I see you though!” 

Nolan smiles. “Yeah. We’ll have our own little Christmas. It’ll be nice.” He picks at the hem of his shirt and says, “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

Nolan feels like he can see Nico’s smile, and it makes him feel gooey inside. He takes a deep breath. “Can’t wait to kiss you.”

Nico gasps softly and then laughs at his own reaction, and that makes Nolan laugh, and then they’re both laughing so hard their sides start to hurt. Nico clears his throat. “I’ll kiss you so much when I get there.” 

Nolan laughs even more. “Sounds perfect.” 

They say their goodbyes, but once Nico hangs up, Nolan feels lonely again. He sighs, and gets up to rummage through his fridge.  _ Only a few days,  _ he thinks, and finds leftover chicken. He says the word “Nice!” out loud and fist pumps and figures maybe this day can be salvaged. 

 

He waits a day and a half to turn his comments back on, and he posts a picture of his Christmas tree with some presents sitting underneath. It’s pretty artsy and he’s proud of it, and the likes and comments start to roll in. Most of them are inane, and he doesn’t pay attention to them at all. He’s eating his pregame meal when Nico facetimes.

“Hey, Hisch,” he says through a mouthful of chicken. 

“Hello!” Nico exclaims. “I’m going to be at the game with Rico tonight.”

Nolan’s eyes widen. “Actually?!” He can’t help it; his voice goes up like four octaves and he sounds positively giddy. It makes Nico laugh. “No, really?”

“Yes, really,” Nico says, smiling. “I wanted to go and we’re making up the excuse that since we don’t play you until January that we just had to check it out. And we’re close. Just want to see you, you know.”

Nolan rolls his eyes, exceedingly fond. “I’ll try and play well tonight, just for you.” Nico frowns after processing that, and Nolan furrows his brows. “What?”

“You’ll play well because you’re  _ you _ ,” Nico says, jabbing a finger at the screen. “You play well always.” 

“Okay, well,” Nolan says, not quite knowing how to respond. Nico always gets him like that. “I’ll see you at the game, yeah?” 

“You will absolutely!” Nico says, bright and happy, and a laugh bubbles up out of Nolan. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Nolan says, waving a little at the camera. He finishes his chicken and feels happy for the first time in days. 

He drives to the rink, singing along to some song on the radio he’s heard twice, and bounds into the arena, feeling good. Some of the guys tease him a bit, but it’s all in good fun, and he just shrugs. He laughs with them. He’s feeling good. 

Which means the game goes exactly how you’d expect it to.

The first two periods are great, and Nolan’s playing great hockey. He’s on fire. He’s netted a goal and gotten three assists, and the team is sitting comfortably on a 5-0 lead. When they come out for the third period, Columbus is out for blood, but they stave them off. The final ten minutes come, and a flurry of penalties are assessed to both sides. Fighting majors, hooking and cross checking galore. Nolan somehow manages to avoid it until he’s going off for a change and a player pushes him smack into the boards. His head bounces off and it doesn’t feel good. His only thought as he’s sitting on the bench is  _ thank god we have a short break _ . 

He goes out for one last shift and gets the empty netter, and when they get back to the room he immediately sits on the ground and then throws up in a trashcan.

“Shit, Patty,” he hears someone say, and he feels cool hands on his neck. 

“You concussed?” someone else asks, and he tries to shake his head, but it feels heavy. He tries to nod instead but he just throws up again. He finally looks up and his world spins a little. 

“I, uh,” he croaks out, and Simmer is standing over him, looking like a worried father. Hakstol is looking at him like he wants to strangle him; Nolan feels vaguely apologetic. The rest of the team looks mildly terrified. “I’ll get checked out.” Hakstol nods and Simmer pulls him up and walks him to the trainer’s room. 

“Felt it when you got knocked around, eh?” Simmer asks, and Nolan hums. “Don’t do that again. We need you healthy.” He leaves him with the trainer who asks him all sorts of questions, but Simmer’s words bang around in his head.  _ We need you healthy. _ He knows this. He knows that they need him healthy, that’s why he’d played the rest of the game, to prove he was fine. He hears it in his head over and over.  _ We need you healthy, we need you healthy. _

The trainer sends him away with a “possible minor concussion” and instructions to “take it easy over the short break.” His head hurts like hell, but he figures that’s to be expected after taking a hit like that. He’ll probably be fine. He’s healthy. He’s fine.

He changes slowly, fingers fingers fumbling with the laces of his skates a few times. Finally, Provs seems to take pity on him and kneels in front of him, unlacing them for him. “You concussed?” he asks, pulling Nolan’s right skate off. 

Nolan shakes his head. “Maybe,” he says. “They said to rest and we’ll reevaluate after Christmas.” 

Provs hums, and unlaces the left skate. “I’m headed upstate, so you and Nico will have the place to yourselves, but I’ll drive you home.” He pulls the left skate off and throws it aside. “Take care of your head, Patty. We want you to be okay, more than anything.” 

And every message from the guys has been so conflicting.  _ Don’t be so hard on yourself, we need you healthy, we want you to be okay.  _ He doesn’t know how to feel. He puts his skates away and pulls his jersey off and sits in his padding for a bit. Provs looks at him and gestures toward the showers.

“Right,” Nolan says belatedly. His shower is short; he doesn’t want to keep Provs any longer than he has already, and he changes back into his suit. He checks his phone and has a million texts from Nico, but the only one he cares about is at the bottom.

**hischbabe:** waiting on you :-)

**nolan:** Sorry coming

He and Provs come out of the locker room and only have to walk a little before he sees Nico. He looks really good, and Nolan wants to kiss him times a million, but he figures that can wait until they get home.

“Hi, sorry,” he says as a greeting. Nico looks up and throws his arms around Nolan’s neck and hugs him tight. Nolan chuckles. “Was talking to the trainers for a bit.”

“That’s alright,” Nico says into Nolan’s neck. He kisses it lightly. “Hi.” He pulls back and waves at Provs, who smiles back, and they head toward the car. Nolan blinks a few times as his eyes adjust to the harsh lighting, and it feels like sweet relief when they make it to the dimly lit parking garage. Nico squeezes his hand before they get into Nolan’s car, and Nico furrows his brows when Nolan hands over his car keys.

“What?” he asks, and Nolan looks back at him. “You’re not driving?”

“You afraid of my driving?” Provs asks, and Nico sputters, and it makes Nolan laugh a little.

“Just tired, Hisch, don’t worry,” he says, and leans his head against the window. He reaches back and lets his hand linger for a bit, and Nico grabs it and intertwines their fingers. Nolan feels like he can breathe again.

 

He wakes up when Provs pulls into the parking lot outside their building and shakes the grogginess away. His head hurts even more, if possible, and he feels his stomach sink.  _ Maybe I’m not okay _ , he thinks, and they all get out of the car. Provs throws him his keys, and they land in front of him. Nico snorts and picks them up.

“Here, sleepy,” he says, putting the keys in Nolan’s hand. Nolan blinks at them and Nico laughs softly. “Come on. Bed time.” Provs waves and walks to his own car. Nolan doesn’t even have the energy to care about saying goodbye properly, but he waves back and promises himself he’ll text him tomorrow to have a super nice holiday. Nico leads him up the stairs with a hand on his back and takes the keys from him, letting them into the apartment. Nolan lays on the couch and Nico sits next to him.

“Hi,” Nolan says, smiling at where he thinks Nico is. His eyes are closed, so he’s not actually sure. Nico snorts, and runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair. “I missed you.”

“I know,” Nico says. His voice sounds funny, but Nolan doesn’t know what that means. “I missed you too. Can you tell me what’s wrong now?” 

Nolan opens one eye, and the light hurts. “Fuck,” he says, and Nico sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Nolan? Getting hurt? You can’t control that.” He presses a kiss to Nolan’s forehead and gets up. Nolan makes a noise; he doesn’t want Nico to leave. “I’m not going away, I’m just turning the lights down.” It’s a few moments before Nolan feels the couch dip, and he opens his eyes. “Better?” Nico takes his hand and plays with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Nolan says. “I’m sure you didn’t want to spend Christmas with your maybe concussed boyfriend.” He sighs, but Nico’s pretty quiet. When he looks over, he’s frowning. “Did I say the wrong thing again?”

“No,” Nico says, shaking his head. “I just. I wanted to spend Christmas with my boyfriend. Doesn’t matter if he’s maybe-concussed, as you say.” Nolan smiles and Nico squeezes his hand. “Let’s get you some medicine and then in bed. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

They go through their nightly routine, brushing their teeth at the same time and getting changed. Nico brings him two Advil and he downs them easily, but his head feels like it’s spinning. After what feels like a million years, they curl up together on Nolan’s bed, and Nico runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair. “Keep doing that?” Nolan asks quietly, and Nico does, humming softly. Nolan falls asleep like that, in Nico’s arms, and he feels a little okay. 

 

He wakes up alone. His head hurts, but his light sensitivity isn’t as bad as it was the previous night. The smell of coffee hits him almost immediately, and he stands up easily, if a little wobbly. He squints at the sunlight and it doesn’t make his headache worse, so he figures it’s probably okay to look at his phone. He’s got a few unread texts; he doesn’t check them just yet. He walks toward the kitchen and sees Nico puttering about his kitchen, looking entirely at home.

“Are you...making coffee?” he croaks, and Nico looks up in surprise. “You’re gonna burn it.” It’s weak, as far as chirps go, but it makes Nico laugh out loud. The sound makes Nolan smile.

“How are you feeling?” Nico asks, pouring Nolan a cup. “Any better? I heard sometimes caffeine helps with concussion...stuff.” He finishes uncertainly, but slides the cup toward Nolan, who accepts it gratefully.

“Not as light sensitive. It’s probably, like, a really mild concussion or something.” He takes a sip and makes a face. 

Nico furrows his brows. “Is it burnt?” He takes the cup back from Nolan, who makes a noise of complaint. Nico takes a sip and shrugs. “It tastes like my coffee.” That makes Nolan chuckle.

“How do you do this every time, honey?” Nolan says, and Nico blushes at the use of the pet name. Nolan isn’t going to dwell on that, at all, nope, and instead pours the coffee out. “I’ll make it.” Nico sighs dramatically, and Nolan frowns. “What, you want shitty coffee?”

“No, it’s just, if you insist,” Nico says, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it. When Nolan turns around, Nico’s smile is cheeky. Nolan just looks at him, mouth open slightly in shock, and Nico shrugs, smirking.

“You did this on purpose,” Nolan says, pointing at him. Nico just smiles at him, eyes crinkling in happiness. “You have no shame.” He starts the coffee maker and it automatically smells better than whatever Nico had been doing. 

“I don’t, but your coffee is, like, a lot better,” Nico says. They wait for a few minutes, just listening to the machine whirr, and then Nolan pours him a cup and gives it to him. Nico takes a sip and sighs happily. “So good.” Nolan snorts, and pours himself a cup. He sits next to Nico and leans in to kiss and Nico gets up to grab his phone, seemingly oblivious.

“Excuse me.” Nolan looks at him and scoffs.. 

“Hmm?” Nico says. Nolan stands up and leans in again, kissing him. “Oh. Oh! Is that what you were doing?” Nolan just gives him another look and Nico laughs and kisses him again. He brushes his thumb over Nolan’s cheek, and Nolan revels in the touch. “Missed you,” he says, hushed, and Nolan nods and brushes his nose against Nico’s.

“Missed you more.” He kisses Nico one more time, then grabs his coffee, and says, “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the couch. Nico smiles a real smile, the first one since last night at the game, and they move to the couch. 

Nolan sets his coffee down on the table and Nico follows suit, crawling on top of him. Nolan raises his eyebrows and Nico just smirks and kisses him again, tugging at Nolan’s shirt. Nolan helps him pull it off and then pulls Nico’s off, and they keep kissing. Nico pulls back to take a breath. Nolan groans and reaches out for him. Nico laughs. “Impatient, calm down.” 

“Just...keep doing that,” Nolan breathes, and Nico moves to his neck. He kisses it gently, then bites down and Nolan’s brain short circuits. His breath hitches.

“You like that?” Nico asks, and it’s all Nolan can do to nod. Nico goes to kiss his lips again and bumps noses with him. “Shit.”

Nolan laughs. “It’s fine,” he says quietly, smoothing Nico’s hair. He kisses him again, and pulls Nico back in. Nico fumbles with the drawstring on Nolan’s pants for an egregiously long time before Nolan takes pity on him and helps him. Nico laughs, but it sounds nervous as he throws the pants on the ground. He looks up and Nico is bright red. He leans up to kiss him and their teeth clink together and Nolan giggles.

“Fuck,” Nico says, laughing a little. “I don’t...I’ve done this before so I don’t know why I’m nervous? I mean, like, I don’t...it’s just you, no, like, not that it’s just you…?” he trails off, burying his head in Nolan’s neck. Nolan loves him. He’s never loved someone more.

“Hey,” Nolan says, touching the back of Nico’s neck. He kisses Nico’s temple. “Look at me. You’re fine. We’re doing fine. You’re right, it’s just me.” Nico lifts his head and Nolan kisses him deeply, losing himself in it. Nico moves quickly after that, seemingly more confident, pulling Nolan’s pants down. He kisses down his chest and stomach and then. “Did you just kiss my dick?” Nico laughs a little, but as he sits up to readjust, he falls off the couch.

“Oh my god,” he groans, holding his head. Nolan laughs harder than he has in a long time and very elegantly rolls on top of Nico and kisses him, still laughing. “Don’t...this is so embarrassing.”

“It is not,” Nolan says, smiling so wide. He kisses him over and over again. “You’re amazing.” He kisses his forehead. “You,” he kisses his nose, “are amazing,” and then kisses his lips again. 

“I love you,” Nico says, then freezes. Nolan’s eyes widen and he feels like his heart is going to burst. 

“I love you so much,” Nolan says quickly. Nico gasps a little. Nolan is looking at him with such intensity, and he can feel his cheeks getting hot, but he has to say this. “Jesus. I will literally do anything you want. Anything.” 

Nico strokes his cheek and flips them, then, so he’s back on top. “Just be good for me,” he says, and Nolan swallows, breathing erratic. “You already are.”

They move together, almost like they’ve done this before. Nolan curls his fingers in the carpet as Nico grinds against him, feeling every little thing. He grabs at Nico’s shoulders and Nico flips him, then, and stops. “Nico,” Nolan growls, which makes Nico giggle. “ _ Nico. _ ”

“No, no, baby, I’m not stopping,” he says. “Where is...we’re not doing this unprotected.”

“Oh,” Nolan says, deflating a bit. “There’s lube in that drawer right there.” 

Nico chokes. “Oh, jeez, you’re prepared.” 

Nolan laughs out loud at that. “Oh, jeez,” he parrots, and Nico comes back, laughing too, and kisses the back of his neck. “I mean we’re here alone for four days, what did you think? It always pays to be prepared, babe.” 

Nico laughs again and it’s so intimate, them together, but so loose and carefree. Their movements are completely in sync. It hurts, but it’s a good hurt, he thinks. They’re both enjoying it, and when they finish together Nolan gasps, shaky. 

“I’ve got you,” Nico says quickly, touching his cheek. “Look at me.” Nolan rolls over and Nico gasps, then. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses Nolan’s nose, then his lips. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

“Yeah, how red are my cheeks?” Nolan laughs, and Nico’s eyes crinkle again, and he kisses both of Nolan’s cheeks. 

“I love it. They’re beautiful, you’re beautiful.” Nico curls into him, and kisses his collarbone. They just lay there for a bit, listening to each other breathe. It’s the happiest Nolan’s felt in a long time, he thinks. He loves Nico so much. 

After what feels like forever, Nolan finally says, “We should shower,” and they get up slowly and move to the shower. Nolan’s head barely hurts, he thinks, as Nico washes his hair for him. He says this, and Nico smiles.

“Really? I heard sex helped with concussion stuff too, so I’m glad that worked,” Nico says quietly, and Nolan looks at him, in awe. “What?”

“How much did you google while I was asleep last night?” Nolan asks as Nico rinses the conditioner out. “Like. What did you even google? I love you so much, oh my god.”

Nico flushes. “I just googled how to help your partner with a concussion, really, that’s it,” he says, kissing Nolan’s shoulder. “I just, I want you to be okay. I know you haven’t been, and I want to help.” Nolan’s stomach drops, hearing the slight hurt in Nico’s voice. He responds with something, but he can’t really tell what, but Nico kisses him in response so it must be what he wanted to hear. 

He knows he should talk to Nico, he knows this, but it’s so...fucking difficult. The entire world loves Nico. Everyone who meets him loves him, any hockey fan loves him, he’s a joy to play with and a hard player to play against, but not dirty. Nico, deservedly so, is loved all across the board, and absolutely deserved to be the first overall pick. Nolan doesn’t resent him for that, either. It’s just...Nolan wishes people loved him instead of needless hate.

He puts on comfy pajamas and goes back to the couch. He pours out his coffee and gets himself more, sticking it in the microwave for a moment to make it hot again. He walks to the couch as Nico comes out, towel drying his hair. “You look comfy,” Nico says, smiling. He throws the towel over the back of one of the kitchen table chairs and grabs a bottle of water. “What are we doing today?” 

“Maybe just hanging out?” Nolan suggests, patting the space next to him. Nico sits and curls into him happily. “My head hurts a little again, I don’t want to overwork myself or anything. Plus it’s Christmas Eve, and it’s always crazy on Christmas Eve.”

“Sounds good to me,” Nico says quietly. They sit together, occasionally showing the other funny tweets or instagram posts. After a while, Nico gasps lightly and then covers his mouth, as if the noise was involuntary. 

“What?” Nolan asks, reading through some political article on the New York Times. “Did Trump do something again?”

“No. Well, I don’t know,” Nico says. “Um. The comments. On your instagram? The newest one. They’re so awful.”

“Oh,” Nolan says, blinking. He opens Instagram and reads through. Some of them are normal, some of them are chirps from the guys, and some of them are the usual. “You suck”’s and “awful player awful person” are seen a lot, and he shrugs. “Eh, every time I turn on my comments I get this. Maybe if I stop turning them off they’ll stop.”

“Nolan, this one is wishing injury on you,” Nico says. He sounds horrified. “Nolan, what the fuck.”

“Ew, really?” Nolan says. He sounds much more nonchalant than he is, he thinks. His chest feels tight, and he tries to take a deep breath. “That’s probably not good.”

“Nolan,” Nico says, sitting up. “Nolan, please.”

“Nico, I don’t...I don’t want to do this right now,” Nolan says, voice cracking. “Oh jeez.”

“Oh, god, Nolan,” Nico says, reaching up and cupping Nolan’s face, brushing his thumb across Nolan’s cheekbone. “Please don’t cry.”

“It’s just.” And Nolan feels the floodgates open, and suddenly Nico’s arms around around him and his face is buried in Nico’s chest, and his sobs are loud and he’s hyperventilating. He’s suddenly thrown back to the first time it happened, when Maddie found him in the bathroom, and he’d wondered why Nico didn’t get this shit. But he’s here now, and Nico is holding him, and Nico loves him, and he doesn’t understand why. This time feels different, though, and Nico is stroking his hair, and kissing the side of his head.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” he says, and that makes Nolan cry harder, and all the comments and the remarks from his team and from his dad and his uncle and his friends swirl around his head like a hurricane, and they won’t stop and it hurts to breathe. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. I’m here.” 

“Nico, I...it hurts,” he says, and he feels so stupid to let these comments get to him like this, but it’s been building for months and months. He should’ve said something. “I’m sorry.”

“ _ Nolan _ ,” Nico says. “Nolan, please, just talk to me.”

Nolan opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. Nico kisses the side of his head again and they sit in silence. Nolan finally, quietly, spits out, “I just wanna be good enough.”

Nico’s head moves so fast Nolan wonders how his neck doesn’t snap. “What?” he asks, practically a whisper. “You...what?”

“I wanna be good enough for them, for the team, for my family.” He waits a second. His voice is still shaky with unshed tears. “For you.”

“Oh jeez is right, Nolan, oh my god,” Nico says, readjusting so he can cup Nolan’s face. “Do you know what’s most important to everyone for you?” Nolan shakes his head, closing his eyes. He feels Nico press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s that you are happy. Those people commenting on your posts are gross, and horrible, and nasty. And your team wants you to be happy, your family wants you to be happy. I want you to be happy. And if you are not happy, then I want to help you get there.”

Nolan laughs; it’s watery, but it’s there. He blinks some tears out. “I’m always happy with you. I just...you’re going through shit, too. I don’t want to stress you out.” He kisses Nico’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m being silly.”

Nico sighs. “You’re not. Your feelings being hurt is not silly, Nol.” He pauses. “You thinking I’m going to be stressed out is maybe a little silly.” He kisses Nolan’s hair and Nolan laughs a little. “I want to help you, but I cannot help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“Yeah,” Nolan says. “Yeah.”

“And if you ask me? They’re wrong. They’re wrong about you, always. You are amazing, and your playing is amazing, and everything this season has been going really well for you,” Nico says, rubbing Nolan’s arm. Nolan listens to him, trying to absorb every word. “They don’t know you, they don’t matter. You know who matters? You. Play for you. And if you don’t believe yourself, then believe me. Because I love you.” He kisses Nolan’s forehead. “I love you.” He kisses Nolan’s lips. “And I believe in  _ you _ .”

“How are you even real?” Nolan asks, hushed. He curls back into Nico’s chest and looks up at him. “I love you so much.” 

“I know,” Nico says, smiling, squeezing him tight. “You’ll be okay. I know you will. You always are.”

 

When Nico is getting ready to leave, Nolan’s headache is well and truly gone. He makes him breakfast and coffee, and Nico sighs happily.

“I will really miss your coffee, schätzli,” he says, sipping it slowly. “I would ask for you to teach me but then I’d have no excuse to see you anymore.” Nolan gapes, offended, and Nico grins.

“ _ No _ excuse? What about you loving me?” Nolan says, sliding him a plate of eggs and bacon. “Or do we not matter anymore.” He slides into the seat next to Nico, who gives him a look. “You started it.”

“You found me out, I am only with you for your coffee, obviously,” Nico teases. He pulls Nolan in for a kiss. “You taste like bacon.”

“And you taste like my world class coffee that I’m never teaching you to make,” Nolan says against his lips. Nico laughs and kisses him again. They eat in a comfortable silence, until Nico breaks it by laughing at something on his phone. They talk a little more until Nico stands up and puts his plate by the sink.

“I have to go,” he says, frowning. “I have practice later.” 

Nolan sighs. He knew this was coming, but he doesn’t want it. “Alright. Be safe, okay?” He walks Nico to the door and kisses him goodbye. “Text me when you get back.” 

“I will,” Nico says. “And you,” he points at Nolan’s chest, “you call me, whatever you need, whenever.” 

“I will,” Nolan promises. “I’ll be okay.” Nico kisses him one more time and then leaves, and Nolan closes the door and leans against it. “I will,” he says, out loud to himself.

He means it this time.

**Author's Note:**

> This literally started as a response to me truly shedding tears over how mean people were being to Nolan on twitter over his "facial infection" because I love him so much and I want him to be healthy because I know how much it sucks to be injury prone.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


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